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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662731">Uniforms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnlikelyOne/pseuds/TheUnlikelyOne'>TheUnlikelyOne</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cufflinks, Gen, HR, In the hell of corporation, Men in uniform, Motivational Speech, POV Second Person, Rude speaks in second person, Toy boy, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), enthusiast tailor, sharp pins, when has Rude started to talk so dirty?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:21:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnlikelyOne/pseuds/TheUnlikelyOne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for a change, after the nerve-wrecking end of Before Crisis, and the few remaining Turks get their new uniforms. Someone's happy about his own one, someone not so much.<br/>Insert an enthusiast tailor, sharp pins and a motivational speech randomly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reno &amp; Rude (Compilation of FFVII)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Uniforms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From: HR<br/>
To: TurksAll</p><p>Object: New uniform prototype</p><p>Date: December 19, 0007 6.45 PM</p><p>Dear colleague,<br/>
We are glad to inform you that the prototype for the new uniform was delivered to your room this afternoon. We hope it meets the desiderata you expressed in the last week survey. <br/>
Your presence, wearing said uniform, is requested tomorrow morning at 09:00 at the Administrative Research Department Auditing Office. A tailor will be attending, in order to make any needed modification before the final approval. </p><p>Best Regards</p><p>Human Resources Office</p><p>---</p><p>You walk along the Department hall, straightening your jacket. The prototype is pleasing you. Even the black shirt made it through, something you really didn't expect. Slick. Perfect for hiding stains. Especially on the battlefield, but you don’t like to think too much about this . </p><p>Just as you don’t like to think too much about the meaning of these new uniforms.</p><p> They’re the tangible proof of the Turks' fresh start. Baptized in Veld’s and Elke’s lifeblood. You knew murder was going to be the norm the very day you joined the Administrative Research Department; only, you didn’t think it could get to the point to shoot your boss, as he finally reunited with his long lost daughter. </p><p>As you open the office door, the room seems too big. Had this happened just one month  ago, it would be bursting full of colleagues, speaking loudly and comparing their looks. Veld would stand behind the wide desk, surveying the whole situation.</p><p>There's Tseng there, instead, looking as spiffy as a Director of Department should.</p><p>A short man with grey hair and a very respectable set of mustaches is knelt by his side, adjusting the length of his jacket cuffs. </p><p>“Good morning Rude. How do you like the new uniform?” Tseng says softly. You straighten the jacket lapels. </p><p>“It’s good. The slacks should be longer, though; the socks show too much when I’m sitting.”</p><p>Tseng nods. "It will be addressed as soon as-.”</p><p>The door slams open. </p><p>“You must be fucking kidding me!” </p><p>Reno storms inside, all your eyes turn on him. In the eerie silence that follows, the tailor’s hands clapping together sound like a sudden shot. </p><p>“Gorgeous! I wondered who could pull off this look, but you do it beautifully, mister!”</p><p>Reno looks at him, and if glares could incinerate, probably the tailor and his grey-blue pullover would burn to a handful of ashes right under your eyes. </p><p>Nevertheless, he’s totally right. </p><p>Reno’s new jacket is. Fit. Falling perfectly on the nervous shoulders and hugging his figure, down to the narrow hips. The slim trousers make his legs look very long. And the shirt. </p><p>Well, it’s a Reno shirt, so it must be open safe for few renegade buttons, but this one seems designed to be worn this way, and reverses beautifully on the lapels. In your mind you compare it to Reno’s old uniform, that always went all scarecrow style hung on his weedy frame. Like he borrowed it from a fatter colleague for scarcity of supplies. </p><p>“You look very elegant, Reno,” Tseng scans him head to toe. “It’s a nice change.”</p><p>Reno lets out an irritated hiss, opening the arms in disbelief. “I don’t do elegant, boss, and you know it.”</p><p>Tseng’s lips curve slightly upwards. The extent of Reno’s power amazes you every time. ”We both know it had to come to an end. HR kept on complaining and it became difficult to ward them off. This is your new dress code, from now on, and you have to stick to it. No more special Reno exceptions. No tie and not many buttons and no tucking the shirt in. I did my best.”</p><p>Reno looks around for backup.</p><p>“Tseng’s right,” you say. “It suits you much better than the old uniform. You look sharp, finally.” Like the animal of prey he is, fast and deadly. Although he would do anything to conceal that. </p><p>He rolls the eyes at you, buries the hands in his unruly hair.</p><p>“Rude, you’re a fucking betrayer. I can’t possibly move in this thing. There’s a reason for baggy.”</p><p>Tseng sighs and rubs his forehead. “Had you even tried to move in that thing, and I doubt it since I’m sure you were undercover until 15 minutes ago, you would have realized that this fabric is very stretchy and designed to follow all of your stunts. Ow.” He lets out a surprised noise. </p><p>“Please stay still, sir. The pins are quite sharp," the tailor says hastily, wiping his brows. </p><p>“And what’s with all the snakeskin and straps, then?”</p><p>“Snakeskin is the main theme of the uniforms, and I don’t know who decided for it. It wasn’t me for sure. You got more of it, because the Office For General Supplies noticed that your uniforms last less than the average due to extreme consumption of the left shoulder. I think it’s due to that habit of yours of constantly tapping the EMR right there. Thus the inserts. About the other details, well, it was designed by the VP himself, so you just have to go with it.”</p><p>Reno’s face flushes just slightly, for a millisecond his eyes go wide in disbelief. </p><p>“Fine, then, if the VP himself designed it especially for me! I would only  like to-“</p><p>“You have no right of modification whatsoever.”</p><p>“But, boss, the cuffs.” Reno is almost whining by now. He reaches for Tseng and sticks a wrist under his face. “They have cufflinks. Do you have an idea of how long it takes to button them? And the cuffs are too long. The rod will slip from my hand at the worst moment.”</p><p>“They were designed to be longish," the tailor says dreamily. "Now I understand why.”</p><p>“Cut it short, Reno.” Tseng dismisses him waving the hand. “This is your new uniform and you will wear it. As. It. Is.”</p><p>Reno scratches the back of his head. </p><p>“Ok, ok," he mutters. "Any coffee left, at least?” </p><p>---</p><p>"No, no, no." Reno keeps on shaking the head as you get back to your office. "It's a nightmare and I'm going to wake up soon."</p><p>"It's a pity."</p><p>His head snaps in your direction. "What?"</p><p>"That you don’t like it. It suits you."</p><p>“What the fuck?!?? Does it suit me beating people around, dressed as a damn costly toyboy?”</p><p>You raise a hand to stifle a laughter. “Not exactly.”</p><p>“Whaddaya mean then?” he exclaims, looking down and stuffing his hands inside the pockets. "Lookie! Even the pockets are snug. I don’t do snug, or elegant. I do baggy and messy, ok? This is me."</p><p>“Why?” you ask, because really you can’t figure out. Your groomed appearance is like a shield, a convenient mask that conceals whatever’s lurking beyond, conveying just professionalism to the outside. Looks are always part of the whole process. </p><p>““Make them underestimate you, then fuck 'em big time." He smirks at you.</p><p>"What's that?"</p><p>"Auntie saying. A great woman, my aunt. Taught me everything I know."</p><p>"I’d be curious to know her," you mutter.</p><p>"Aw Rude, so thoughtful." He goes all wide eyes on you. "She'll be ecstatic  She loves big tough guys."</p><p>"Does she live in Midgar?"</p><p>"She runs a ballet studio in sector 8."</p><p>You look at him, his damn dancer built. His bouncing steps, his theatrical ways. Suddenly you understand a lot of things.</p><p>Reno smiles, he's not looking at you as he speaks again."She does baggy, too. An unassuming woman. Small. Huge glasses. But when she dressed up for the show, she became an angel."</p><p>“Exactly what I mean.”</p><p>Reno stops in his tracks, frowning. “What?” he asks, tilting his head. “I’m not getting you, partner.”</p><p>“When we go out there, we must dress up for the show.”</p><p>Reno’s frown deepens. “What show?”</p><p>“The show of power Shinra sets up to be feared. We are the VP statements. Each time we’re sent against Shinra's opponents.”</p><p>“Huh?”You can almost see Reno’s brain cells steam in exertion under his skull. </p><p>“We must look exactly as we are. As our role asks. Sharp, efficient. Deadly.”</p><p>“No need for angels?” he asks in the end. </p><p>“Not.”</p><p>“Thankfully.”</p><p>“But a redhead huddled up in a baggy suit is not fitting the plan.”</p><p>Reno nods and starts walking again. You follow him, it’s hard not to pull his bright ponytail. The way it sways and bounces behind him. </p><p>“It doesn’t make me like this thing better, anyway,”  he states. </p><p>“You don’t have to like it. But you have to embrace it, if you are a Turk.”</p><p>“I didn’t know you were a poet, partner. You keep on surprising me.” Reno nudges your side, you push him away with a slap. </p><p>“Will you ever shut up?”</p><p>“Rude. A name, a destiny.”</p><p>You reach out with an arm and coil it around Reno’s shoulders. He offers no resistance; your steps match just perfectly as you walk on. </p><p>“Rude?”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“I’m with you with the looks and everything, but the damn cufflinks? They don’t even show up.”</p><p>You chuckle. “Maybe the VP wanted to teach you patience.”</p><p>“You’re a jerk!” he blurts out and tries to escape your hug. You just pull him nearer, he’s quite easy to manoeuvre if he allows it. "And a bloody traitor."</p><p>"Nah. I’m your partner and I speak the truth. ”</p><p>You can't avert your eyes from Reno. The new uniform enhances what the old one messily disguised. Long limbs, narrow waist. Straight shoulders, while he had always looked hunched up. An angel, a dancer. A relentless machine, poised for destruction. Reckless and fiery. Your partner. </p><p>“And the truth is that you look damn good in that thing. It does you fucking justice. You’re not a punk kid anymore, and you better acknowledge that. You’re a skilled, handsome man, a fucking outstanding man; stop bullshitting around and let everyone know.”</p><p>“Whut?” Reno slips away from under your arm and turns, stepping in front of you. You have to stop abruptly, your bodies almost touch. He looks at you, raising slightly his chin. His eyes are unreadable, same for the soft curve of his mouth. “Do you really mean what you just said, partner?”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“Outstanding, huh?”</p><p>You nod. “Outstanding and damn beautiful.”</p><p>Reno puts a hand on your shoulder. “Thank you,” he says slowly. “Been quite a shitty period, you know. You must know, you were beside me. Was in need of a motivational speech.” He’s smiling, now, brows relaxed and shiny eyes. </p><p>“Everything, for my boss.”</p><p>Reno pinches his chin, glancing sideways. “Technically you’re right. I’m. Second in command, now.”</p><p>“Yes. And you should behave accordingly. You can’t be obscured by the elegance of the third in command.”</p><p>“In fact I won’t,” he taps a hard finger against your chest. “I always forget that I’m your boss. I should order you around much more. Make my coffee, carry my bags. Hand me the damn EMR.”</p><p>“At your command.” You snicker and raise a hand in the military salute.</p><p>He shrugs. “It would be overly weird. I've had enough of weird for a while and it seems it ain’t ending soon. Come on, let’s get back to the office. Playtime’s over.”</p><p>---</p><p>“Rude?” he calls later, sitting at his desk. </p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“The motivational.”</p><p>“Hm?“</p><p>“It sounded suspiciously like something I would say. Once you were so collected, partner.” </p><p>It’s your time to shrug. “I guess you rubbed off on me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For some reason Rude keeps on talking in second person in my head. Not sure why.</p><p>No native English speaker here, hope there aren't too many mistakes. Please feel free to report them to me, they will be mercilessly dealt with.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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